Seasonal Eating: Viet Taste at Home

Seasonal eating: the hidden rhythms of Vietnamese home-cooking.

In the heart of a Vietnamese kitchen, the harmony of a meal comes to life with a trio of a savory dish, a soup, and a vegetable beside rice. It’s a little-known secret that these traditional meals are a celebration of the seasons, with each dish artfully embracing the freshest produce each season offers. As the weather waltzes from the sun-kissed summers to the crisp autumns, the tastes on the table twirl and transform in a delicious ballet of seasonality. 

You are invited to indulge in an array of home-cooked menus that are as exquisite and heartwarming as the soul of Vietnamese cuisine itself.

Three Regions: Seasonal dishes

Nguyen Binh Khiem (1491 – 1585), a brilliant Vietnamese poet in the 16th century, wrote a simple and wise poem titled “Canh Nhan” (Leasure) which includes these verses:

“Eating bamboo shoots in autumn, a crunchy bite, 

Eating bean sprouts in winter, a snowy white, 

Bathing in lotus lake in spring, a floral sight, 

Bathing in small pond in summer, a refreshing delight.”

         (No. 73, Bach Van Am’s poetry collection)

During autumn, young bamboo shoots burst through the soil, sweet and tender. Tossed in a fiery wok with garlic, they transform into a dish that sings with flavor. Winter wraps the world in a chilly embrace, but the mung bean sprouts defy the frost. They remain succulent and crisp, pairing perfectly with hearty beef in a soup that fends off the cold with every spoonful. 

Come spring, the poet emerges from a lotus-laden lake, hands graced with blooms plucked from the water. The lotus seeds are simmered into a sweet soup whose fragrance warps gently in the spring breeze. Summer arrives – it’s time for bathing in the pond and harvesting water spinach. This verdant green is the star of a refreshing soup, best enjoyed with the tangy crunch of salted eggplants dipped in savory bean paste.

In just a few lines, a culinary journey through the seasons unfolds, each verse a tribute to the right foods at the right time.

In the bustling kitchens of Vietnam, housewives wield their culinary prowess with the finesse of seasoned gourmets, rivaling the legendary Nguyen Binh Khiem. As June unfurls its golden tapestry, the dracontomelon fruits lurk like emerald treasures amidst a sea of leaves, basking in the radiant glow of the summer sun. 

Come midday, a Hanoian meal is incomplete without the quintessential bowl of dracontomelon fruit soup. This soup marries the tender, cloud-like texture of minced meat with the zesty tang of dracontomelon, creating a symphony of flavors that dances on the palate. It’s a dish that offers a delicious respite from the relentless summer blaze. Journalist Vu Thi Tuyet Nhung, with her palate steeped in the rich heritage of old Hanoi, proclaimed it as “the ultimate sour soup of Hanoi” in her book “Hanoi’s nostalgic aroma and taste, part 1” (Hanoi Publishing House 2022, p. 71)

Eggplants are strutting their seasonal debut, and just yesterday, a batch of these beauties was transformed into succulent salted pickles. Their skins have blossomed into a texture that’s smooth as silk, crisply yielding to the bite, and teasing the palate with a playful hint of salt—all while carrying the heady aroma of sun-kissed eggplants.

As June waltzes in, greasyback shrimps are in the midst of their social season, flaunting their peak freshness. Imagine caramelized shrimps, their shells glistening like amber, paired with honey-hued pork rinds—a dish so divine, it’s poetry on a plate. The shrimps’ shells crackle with crispness, a delicate veil that gives way to the succulent shrimp meat within.

The North Vietnamese three-course seasonal symphony crescendos with shrimps, eggplants, and a dracontomelon fruit soup that’s nothing short of enchanting. It’s a culinary ballet that dances across the taste buds, leaving a trail of flavor and charm in its wake.

In the heart of South Central, as May unfurls its warmth, the cicadas serenade amidst the mango orchards. The mangos, dressed in light green, sway gently, an echo of the verdant rice fields in their prime. This month, the tu quy mangos are the stars of the show, bursting with juicy tales of sweetness and a tangy twist.

The sea, generous in its offerings, presents the plump sea pomfret – a treasure trove of flavor. When golden-fried, this fish is a crispy delight, its meat chewier and sweeter than the finest chicken, ready to be paired with a spicy chili garlic fish sauce. Add to that the sweet and sour embrace of mango, and you have a dish that awakens the appetite, making your mouth water and your stomach eagerly await.

To balance the feast, a big bowl of malabar spinach and sponge gourd soup arrives, as soothing as the season’s first rain, quelling the fiery dance of gastric juices. It’s a meal that captures the essence of Central Vietnam—unpretentious yet utterly delectable.

As the Southwest heralds the end of August, it’s not just the calendar that turns – a flood of life begins. The Mekong River overflows, a liquid bounty that brings with it a dance of tiny fingerling fish. The sesbania trees, too, join the revelry, adorning the creek banks with splashes of bright yellow blooms.

It’s a time when every Southwesterner’s thoughts turn to the season’s signature dish: canh chua cá linh bông điên điển. This sour henicorhynchus soup, peppered with the vibrant sesbania flowers, is a ritual of the overflowing yearly. To truly honor this time, one must simmer a hearty pot of this soup, indulging in a tradition that’s as fleeting as it is flavorful, for these gifts of fish and flower grace us for a mere three months each year.

“Sour soup with henicorhynchus and sesbania flowers, only tastes good with many eaters.” So goes the folk song, a melody that weaves through the heart of the Southwest. This dish is a communal celebration, a feast that calls for the whole family. As they gather, they dip fish into piquant fish sauce and chili, their voices a chorus of contentment for the rich, fatty delight. They nibble on sesbania flowers, extolling its subtle flavor that so perfectly complements the fish. And with each spoonful of soup mixed with rice, they savor the complex dance of bitter and sour, leaving a sweet echo on the palate. It’s a dish that harmonizes savory, vegetal, and soupy notes.

Yet, there’s a note of concern that lingers. The dams built upstream have changed the rhythm of nature, the waters ebb, and the bounty of seafood dwindles with each passing season. One can’t help but wonder, if the floods cease to grace the Southwest of Vietnam, will this cherished fish soup, steeped in tradition and taste, fade into memory?

Summer in Vietnam unfurls a tapestry of home-cooked wonders, each dish a testament to the region’s bounty. And not only summer, other seasons have their specialties as well. These dishes are culinary heirlooms, passed down through generations, their recipes guarded and perfected by the sage hands of experienced housewives. 

Seasonal Eating: Changes of Tastes

Vietnamese cuisine is a dance of seasons, each step a shift in flavor. As the seasons turn, so do the tastes on the table. In the heat of summer, cool dishes bring a refreshing breeze to the palate, while winter’s chill is warded off with hearty, warm meals – a culinary embodiment of the yin and yang, balancing the body in harmony with nature’s rhythm.

When spring unfurls its cool embrace from January to March, North Vietnam cradles a lingering chill. It’s a time when meals become a source of warmth and energy, with meat taking center stage. Imagine spring cabbage rolls, tenderly hugging savory minced meat, all robed in a vibrant tomato sauce that’s as bright as the season’s first blooms. Then there’s the pork ribs and vegetables stew, simmered to a tender perfection. The broth is a delicate affair, where the natural sweetness of vegetables waltzes with rich flavors of ribs, all brought together by the enchanting touch of fish sauce.

Though inspired by French cuisine, cabbage rolls and short rib soup are infused with the soul of Vietnam: fish sauce, garlic, and shallot sing in unison. It’s a warm, nutritious embrace, low in fat yet rich in spirit, a perfect ode to spring’s gentle awakening.

From April to August is the summer. The body needs lots of water and vegetables. In this hot weather, only cool, sweet, and sour foods can create an appetite. Having ready a bunch of meaty field crabs, people in the Southwestern region go to the garden to pick sissoo spinach for crab soup and cut a basket of water spinach to make a salad.

In Vietnamese folk medicine, crab, sissoo spinach, and water spinach are revered for their cooling virtues. The soft crab meat and the red crab claws are not just a feast for the eyes but a balm for the body. A spoonful of sissoo spinach and crab soup is like a gentle breeze on a warm day.

When field crabs meet the pan, they transform into a sweet and salty delight, a perfect match for a crisp water spinach salad. This pairing is a symphony of flavors, a refreshing reprieve that’s as satisfying as it is simple. Indeed, such a meal, humble in its ingredients but rich in tradition, stands tall as a true culinary indulgence.

Autumn in North Vietnam is a painter’s dream, a canvas washed in winds and a gentle drizzle. As the air chills and the rain flutters like leaves, there’s a sudden yearning for the warmth of home-cooked eggplant stew, a perfect companion to steaming hot rice. The fried tofu is a sponge for flavor, soaking up the essence of meat, releasing a rich aroma. The pork belly, tender and fragrant, simmers in the stew that’s mildly sour yet richly golden. Autumn stirs the soul, and its dishes make the heart sing. Though poets may not have penned their tributes to these autumnal delights, each bite is a stanza, each sip a line in an unwritten poem of the season.

Winter in Hue is a continuous melody that’s both cold and wet. Amidst this backdrop, the braised beef with lemongrass and chili stands as a beacon of warmth, a dish that not only heats the body but also replenishes the spirit. The beef tendon is crispy yet translucent as amber, while the beef itself is robustly chewy, marinated in a medley of salty, sweet, spicy, and aromatic flavors that beckon for just one more bite. The occasional slice of lemongrass and chili makes a bold entrance, seemingly disrupting the harmony, yet in truth, they are the secret maestros, adding layers of complexity to the braised beef.

In a poetic twist, chopped beef tendon mingles with lemongrass in a tomato soup, while a hint of salty fish sauce whispers in the background. And to complete this winter’s tale, stir-fried garlic bean sprouts bring a neutral counterpoint to the table. Together, the stew and the soup, balanced by the lightness of the bean sprouts, compose a menu perfect for a chilly day.

The Vietnamese culinary canvas was once painted with the hues of the seasons, each dish a reflection of the time of year. Ancient practices were in harmony with nature’s rhythm, with flavors that evolved as the earth turned. Today, however, the picture has changed. The abundance of modern agriculture – freezing techniques, greenhouses, and off-season farming – has made seasonal eating a choice rather than a necessity.

While we relish the convenience of having every delicacy at our fingertips, there’s a growing nostalgia for the taste of yesteryear – the pure, unadulterated flavors of vegetables and seafood harvested in their prime, the wholesome goodness of poultry raised without haste. These treasures, once commonplace, are now rare gems, often commanding a premium.

The question lingers like the aroma of a forgotten recipe: Does the ease of “getting what we want” truly satisfy our palates, or is there a deeper craving for the old way of “eating bamboo shoots in autumn, eating bean sprouts in winter”? When will we return to the wisdom of our ancestors, to a time when every meal was a celebration of the season?

As we ponder this, we realize that perhaps the truest flavor comes not from the dish itself, but from the connection to the earth and the cycle of life it represents. To dine as our ancestors did may require a rekindling of old traditions and a renewed respect for the natural world.

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